William McKinnon's Guide to Valentine's Day
by Ophelia B
Summary: A day late, but still equally helpful. Advice on the perfect Valentine's Day for your woman from an expert. Written for Rogue.


So... Aside from this being set in the Newsie's universe, this really isn't a fanfiction. There are zero newsboys in this story, so sorry. If you want a bigger clue on exactly what this is based off of, go join the RPG site that's posted in my profile. Seriously, it's pretty amazing.

This was written for my good friend, Roguey bear. 8D Sierra belongs to her and I can blame the butchering of that particular character on that fact. Will is mine, however; and is amazingly amazing. Everyone should worship him.

**William McKinnon's Guide to Valentine's Day**

First things first. The saying "the clothes make the man" may not apply to a guy on a daily basis, but on days such as Valentines Day, you can bet on your grandmother's sweet, apple pie they do.

William McKinnon knew that rule very well. He was dressed to impress, clad in his best suit—okay, so it wasn't much of a suit. Well, it wasn't a suit at all actually. Will made a living doing the odd jobs around New York. Sold papers, swept chimneys, was a stable hand for awhile, and even worked as a little courier delivery boy. Sure, like a guy with no definite income could afford one suit, let alone have a best one.

No, Will was not in a suit. Either way, he was still dressed to impress. He was in an almost spotless white dress shirt and equally almost spotless, charcoal colored slacks that he had borrowed (with permission, thank you) from a friend for this very occasion. Will decided against his trademark, gray vest since he figured the raggedness about it wasn't exactly what he was going for. The unkempt look may work with the ladies (or lady in his more recent case), but he doubted that it would hold up on such occasions as good, old V-Day. Suit or not, he looked _good…_

In his opinion anyway.

Grooming was also very high up on the list of things to keep in mind. Will ran a comb through his blonde hair, snarling at his reflection in the dirty mirror in front of him when his hair fell into his eyes. Again. It was seriously causing Will to consider a hair cut. Not that he could do it, of course, unless there was some way to cut your hair and have it grows back the next day (Will would have to look into inventing that later... he could make some good money). It was just a random thought that passed rather quickly. Perhaps, if he did cut his hair, his blue eyes wouldn't have to stop enjoying the world due to stubborn tresses of hair that loved to get in the way anymore.

He scrutinized his reflection very carefully. Call him a woman, but it was just nerves. Yes, Will, lady magnet, debonair-Will was nervous. Not horribly nervous... just nervous that he'd mess up and the whole day would end in some catastrophic annihilation of the world.

Trust me, William McKinnon was capable of it.

So, Will wasn't debonair in any way, shape, or form, but he was a lady magnet. That's why his being so nervous made him feel so stupid. It was his first actual relationship with a girl who could hold an interesting conversation and Will was not about to screw that up. At least, he hoped he wasn't about to mess it up.

It didn't help that it was Valentines Day, the Mecca of all the relationship celebrations in America. It had to be more romantic than birthdays and sometimes treated more important than anniversaries. If a guy screwed up Valentines day he could consider himself screwed. The poor guy wouldn't hear the end of it until the day he died (which would probably come sooner than hoped if the broad was _really_ mad). Oh, yes. The broad would store it in a small drawer in the back of her mind and pull it out at the worst time. Oh, the horror stories Will had heard.

Will actually had his Valentines Day planned for two weeks just to be safe. Anyone who knew him knew that two weeks was a long time for him to plan anything. Planning wasn't exactly one of Will's strong points, but it was better safe than sorry. Usually, he refused to plan under any circumstances. Spontaneity was always more fun…

… Except when the planning would help him woo the girl of his dreams. A pretty brunette with gorgeous eyes and an amazing sense of humor. She was as sweet as butter, yet not to the point where she was on the verge of boringness. Perfect, especially since she wasn't perfect. Don't think that makes sense? Well, shove off. Will's logic makes plenty of sense, thank you.

It took a lot of time, combing, and half a jar of pomade, but Will finally managed to maneuver his sandy, blonde hair into a classy sweptback thing. Will wasn't sure of the technical term for that particular hairstyle but he did know that it was rather flattering on his very nicely proportioned face.

Plan, check. Decent attire, check. Groomage, double check.

After on last glimpse in the mirror, Will grabbed his coat and set off down the steps of the Bronx lodging house to the cute, little carriage he had paid to take him to Manhattan on time. A carriage... classy, right? Will thought so too. The carriage was to take him and Sierra around to the specific spots Will had planned. A lot faster and less tiring than walking.

That was another rookie mistake. Tardiness is never acceptable on any date, especially one as important as Valentines day. After starting a date of badly, it's almost impossible to recover.

"Can this thing go any faster?" Will asked after taking it upon himself to check the time using the driver's pocket watch. "Come on, guy. I got a beautiful girl expectin' me in about five minutes," Will stated. At the rate the driver as going it would take at least another half hour before they got there.

"I ain't got all day!" Will yelled, still trying to get the driver to go faster. He complied and the horses began to move faster, barely. Rarely, did Will ever get mad, but the driver was really pushing it. Sierra was going to hate him and that just wouldn't do.

"You're doin' this on purpose, ain't you guy?" Will sighed, leaning back in the little seat. "What did I do to you, huh?"

Finally, the carriage pulled up in front of the Duane Street lodging house. The fact that Sierra lived all the way in Manhattan was really started to irritate him. If only there was a way to magically make the boroughs closer or something. After another glance at the driver's pocket watch, Will had concluded that he was twenty minutes late.

So, timing wasn't Will's strong point. Step off.

Will didn't bother waiting for the driver to open the carriage door. He kicked it open and looked surprised to see his date sitting on the stoop. She was looking quite beautiful, he might add. Will's expression turned into a sheepish grin as he silently prayed she wasn't upset with him.

Her expression brightened at the sight of Will and she quickly stood to dust off her skirt. Will had noticed she decided to dress up a bit too. Nothing too fancy—Sierra had told him she didn't want him doing anything too fancy or he would've some how gotten the two thrown into ball gowns. Okay, scratch that. He would've gotten _Sierra_ thrown into a ball gown and Will would've ended up in a classy suit with a top hat of some sort. Top hats flattered his face quite nicely, he'd noted. Would've, could've, but didn't.

Either way, Sierra looked amazing.

"I was beginning to think you were going to stand me up," Sierra said with a laugh, playing with the fabric of her skirt nervously.

Will twiddled his thumbs behind his back, feeling a bit nervous himself. It wasn't the bad nervous either. It was the good nervous... the one with the butterflies. "Nah, you know I couldn't do that... Someone over here," Will gave the carriage driver a pointed look, "just doesn't seem to understand how to drive a carriage." Will's voice was good natured, but the driver glared at him anyway. "I think we would've made it back here faster if _I _were driving."

"Sure, but I'd prefer you in one piece," Sierra said with a small laugh. Hey now. Okay, there was pretty much no way to defend that. She had a point. Will would probably end up crashing the carriage into some building or something. That actually sounded like fun after he thought about. He'd have to put that on his list of things to do some day.

"I'm really sorry... I tried to make it here as quick as I could," he said and held a hand out to her.

Being a gentleman will give you those extra points you may need in the near future.

"Shall I escort you to your chariot, madam?"

... Just don't overdo it.

Sierra giggled her ever-so cute giggle and took his hand. Will grinned, relieved she wasn't upset with him about being so late. Good 'ole understanding Sierra. He knew he fell for a winner.

Will opened the door of the carriage for her and gave her a bow. "After you, little lady," he said with a wink.

"Well, aren't you just as sweet as can be?" Sierra teased, adapting an obnoxious, southern Belle dialect.

"O'course," Will scoffed, dropping the whole hoity-toity act. He followed her into the carriage and closed the door behind him.

Fancy restaurants were also a very useful tool on the art of Valentines Dating.

"I want a uh... uh..." Will squinted at the menu. Of course, he chose a place that decided to have their whole menus written in French. At least, he thought it was French. It looked like a language you spoke through your nose with several hacking sounds... yeah, French sounded about right. Will dragged his finger across the list of plates before letting it stop on a random dish. Hey, it was easier than trying to decipher what the stupid thing said. "The... teh-teh dee vee-ow," he sounded the word out carefully which made it clear he had no idea what he was ordering.

"The, tete de veau, sir?" The waiter asked in an attempt to clarify.

"Yeah, that's what I said," he said with an easy shrug.

Sierra kept insisting that Will didn't need to take her to such an expensive place. Will tutted and waved his hand to dismiss the subject. If Will could some how grab the moon, minimize so it could be held, and wrap it, he'd give it to her.

That was right when the waiter brought out his food. It smelled rancid and it looked worse. It looked like little bits of mush cut into odd squares with some sort of stringy meat on top. There was a thick layer of some sort of jelly goop on the top and some other hunk of meat on the corner of the plate. Just the sight made him want to show everyone in the restaurant just exactly what it was he had for breakfast.

Sierra's plate looked absolutely appetizing. Chicken and potato wedges (Poulet frites, as the waiter had called it). It looked less... alive. If Sierra had used Will's method of selection from the menu, she hit the jackpot.

"What the hell is this?" He asked, too shocked that the French would ever digest anything like what inhabited his plate to worry about watching his language in front of the girl.

He supposed it'd be a bad time to mention the importance of manners as well.

"Tete de veau, sir. Is that not what you ordered?" The waiter asked. Will just gave him a blank look, causing the waiter to roll his eyes.

"Calf head, sir," he clarified, sounding very annoyed with the boy.

Will felt his stomach turn and Sierra looked both sympathetic and amused at the look on his face.

"Well, what's this?" He asked, pointing to the side dish that looked a little more appetizing.

"Cow brain."

Never mind.

Will was stunned. His smile was forced, looking like the the smile of a corpse at an open-casket funeral. It was not hard to see through the falseness and see how horrified he felt at the thought of eating cow brain... or any other part of the thing's head.

"Oh... cow head... Delicious," Will's smile turned even more corpse-like as he used a fork to pick-up the food (if it could even be classified as that). The look on his face was enough to cause Sierra to burst into laughter, but it was his comment that really got her. She covered her mouth in an attempt to stifle her giggles, failing miserably.

"Are you sure you want to eat that? I mean, we really don't need to eat here. It's expensive anyway," she said.

"You kiddin'?" Will grinned. "I love this stuff. Have it all the time." He moved the fork a fraction of an inch closer to his face and held back a gag when he got a huge whiff of the brain.

"Oh you do?" She asked disbelievingly. "Well, then take a bite." Oh, Sierra was cruel.

Will looked horrified. She meant... eat it? Like... put it in his mouth, swallow, and let his digestive system take it's toll on the cow brain?

"Uh... I uh... You know what?" Will asked with a grin. "I'm not that hungry."

Finally, the duo was able to leave the stuffy restaurant, stomach free of any calf brain. Will wanted to bang his head against the brick wall of the building as they walked past it. So, things weren't going exactly how he planned. Fantastic. He's be lucky if Sierra were to give him the time of day after the stupid experience.

"Where to now, Mr. McKinnon?" She asked curiously after they both boarded the carriage.

"Figured we'd go to Central Park," he said vaguely, not wanting to ruin any surprise he had planned. If Will could pull of this part of the date, he'd have a chance to resurrect the whole day.

Girls love nature-ish dates as well. Add some sunsets and star-gazing and one would pretty much have it in the bag.

It was cold, sure, but it wasn't as cold as the Manhattan winters could usually get. Had it not been for the snow, Will would have thought it to be a day in spring. Their coats were actually enough to keep them warm that evening

"You recognize this place?" Will asked as the two walked through Central Park. The sun was beginning to set and it had just snowed, so the atmosphere was truly beautiful.

"Why, I do believe this is the place where you were attacked by that rabid beast, Roger," Sierra said, grinning at the memory.

Roger was an evil duck that ran around Central Park. Stupid thing bit Will while he tried to befriend it and even had the nerve to try and attack Sierra. The thing fought dirty.

Will had the scar to prove it.

"Yes, well you do believe right, my dear," Will stated with a grin. He dusted off the bench he had seen Sierra siting in some months before, crestfallen for having her shift at a pub given away.

Sierra quietly thanked him with a smile and took a seat. Will joined her with a sigh.

Will was half expecting old Roger to make a return. It'd just be the icing on the cake to a fantastic evening. Thankfully, it was winter and all the birds had migrated. Will still wasn't at ease about it though. With his luck, Roger could've decided to stick around and plot Will's death or something.

"For the record, I did save you from that beastly thing," Will added when he remembered how Sierra had taken refuge behind him.

"Oh, of course," she agreed but in a taunting voice. Her smile showed she was just kidding.

All seemed to be going well. They talked, joked, even had a small snowball fight. The date was finally picking back up.

As soon as Will made that realization he began to feel small, droplets of water coming from the sky.

Rain? Oh. You've. Got. To. Be. Kidding. RAIN?! In February?!

The sky had shown no desire of raining, or even snowing previously. Then, all of the sudden it was raining so hard, Will almost thought the sky was falling. Of course, the world _was_ out to get him.

"Only in New York," he exclaimed and tossed his hands in the air, exasperated.

Okay, the weather wasn't so bad when they were dry, but once they got soaking wet, he was the coldest he thought he had ever been his life. It felt like they were being pelted with thousands of rocks at a time. Only in New York could a guy take the time out to plan a whole, very nice date for a very nice girl and somehow had each one of them backfire. Well, everything else he had planned was now ruined due to the rain and them being soaking wet.

Sierra and Will ran to take refuge in the carriage. The two shivered, huddled together in an attempt to get warm.

They failed.

"We should get back to the lodging house," Sierra said through chattering teeth. Though it would cut the date short, Will couldn't agree more. Cold weather and him didn't mix. "We can find some dry clothes before we both catch our death."

That was Sierra for you. Always caring and looking out for the wellbeing of others. Quite the catch, someone had told him once. Will responded with a cheeky grin and a "Oh, I know. She hit the jackpot, didn't she?". But Will did feel lucky to have found a girl like her. He was finally with someone that actually had potential to do something with her life.

Will got out of the carriage and lent Sierra a hand to help her out as well. He tossed a couple coins carelessly at the driver and gave him a wink. "Thanks, guy." The two ran towards the door, desperate to get into the warmth of the lodging house.

Sierra excused herself to change and Will was randomly picking items of clothing from the boy's bunk room to change into as 1. All his stuff was at the Bronx (he hadn't expected to be rained on in February). 2. The Manhattan boys and Will got along well. They probably (well, hopefully) wouldn't mind if he borrowed their clothes while his dried.

It was likely that the clothes each belonged to different newsies since he was randomly grabbing articles of clothing that looked as if they'd fit alright. Luckily, Will's perception wasn't off by much, and the ratty clothes fit fine.

Still freezing cold, he grabbed several blanket off the bunks, wrapped them around himself, and started towards the lobby.

Will, being Will, tripped on the fabric several times, so he lifted the blankets about a foot off the ground before heading towards the stairs so as to no fall on his face... again.

He readjusted the blankets when he got back into the lobby, re-wrapping the three blankets around him in some sort of blanket-cocoon of warmth. He moved towards the couch, forcing himself to take small steps due to the restriction the blankets put on his legs.

Will had only been sitting for a couple minutes before Sierra finally reappeared, clad in much dryer and warmer clothes. She had pulled her long, curly hair into a braid that reached a bit past halfway down her back.

"Here you go, m'lady," Will stood and pulled the first two layers of blankets from him to give to her as she still looked cold, despite the change of clothes. He grinned and wrapped the blankets around her. "You okay?"

"I'm fine... just a bit cold," she smiled and held the fabric steady before taking a seat on the love seat Will was inhabiting only moments before. Not that he was complaining. Hey, she could probably ask for his arm and he'd hand it right over. Maybe not the right arm as that tends to be the more useful for the two but surely the left one in a heartbeat.

Instead, Will curled up on the couch next to her. He curled up in the manliest way possible, of course, as it was not only females that did the curling up. The date had not gone how he planned. Not in the least bit.

The two sat their in silence for a minute. It wasn't awkward like it would have been a couple weeks before. They always seemed to get nervous around each other but that feeling was finally gone. There was still, and would continue to be, moments when he would feel his stomach doing flips, but all in all, they were just at ease with each other.

"I'm sorry today... didn't go too well," Will said finally. "Wasn't exactly the greatest way to celebrate Valentines Day... Maybe I should just go back to not plannin' anything, huh?" Things did seem to turn out better when he just took them as they came.

"No," Sierra smiled assuringly. "It was fun... in a weird sort of way..." She looked as if she was about to add something but stopped, blushing a sheer pink that wasn't noticeable unless you really looked. Will had grown very fond and very accustomed to that blush.

Well, as least she wasn't mad. She could have just been sparing Will's feelings. Sierra didn't like to upset people. Nothing ever seemed to go as planned for him, but he did end up sitting on a couch, an arm around her so they could cuddle to keep warm. Will definitely did feel warm. And fuzzy. And giddy, oddly enough.

"Well, as long as you ain't mad," Will said with a grin and moved to kiss the top of her head.

Will must just be amazing at timing because just as soon as he made that move, Sierra decided to look up, causing her forehead to ram into his nose.

"OH. OW. MOTHER—"

"Oh! I'm sorry!" Sierra exclaimed quickly, her hands snapping to her face to cover her mouth in shock.

"No... No, I'm fine. No worries," Will lied through his teeth, his eyes watering a bit... not that he wanted to actually cry or anything. It's just a reaction your eyes have when your nose gets rammed in. Like when you yawn or choke on your own spit. He touched his nose gently and winced. Ow. He looked at his hands. No blood. "Ain't like you broke it." He didn't think at least.

Sierra, looking extremely guilty, moved closer to inspect the injury. Her fingers brushed across his nose gingerly as she checked to make sure it really wasn't broken. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"F—" Will cleared his throat, that nervous feeling coming back to him again," Fine." The fact that she was _very_ close to his face had registered in his mind which, at that point, was barely working.

She looked at him, going a lovely shade of crimson. It was a flattering color on her, really. It was obvious to Will that she noticed how close they were as well.

Will finally closed the small space in between them when he mustered up the courage for a kiss. It was pretty innocent. It was just a small peck, suitable and cute enough for a couple's first kiss.

The two pulled apart and it was Will's turn to blush (though there was no doubt Sierra was following in suit). Yes, William McKinnon actually blushed. It wasn't a too noticeable blush and he'd never admit it, so thankfully there was no witnesses. Sierra couldn't even count as a witness since she was too busy studying her lap to notice.

"Well," Sierra cleared her throat and looked up to give him a small grin, "I guess things do turn out better when you don't plan them."

"Hey now," Will grinned mischievously, any trace of modesty gone. Modesty never did last long with Will. Only every once in awhile, a trace of the blasted emotion would come up. "Who's to say I didn't plan that?"


End file.
